


Prize

by Xobit



Category: Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-30
Updated: 2012-07-30
Packaged: 2017-11-11 01:46:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xobit/pseuds/Xobit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orion walks where he should not...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prize

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Prize中文版](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7274125) by [assisapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/assisapple/pseuds/assisapple)



Orion stumbled, catching himself on the rough half rusted wall of the tunnel. He bit his glossa to prevent a cry from escaping; it was not wise to attract attention in the less savory parts of Iacon. Biting back the urge to empty his roiling tank, he wondered why he had thought it an awesome idea to go out drinking with his new work crew. 

He had only just been transferred here… It had been a casual offer, and he had thought ‘why not?’. Getting to know the mechs he was to work with, that wasn’t bad at all, was it? Only it had been bad, the bar they took him to was rowdy and it did not take long for him to realize that a good many of the mechs and femmes there had one goal in mind. 

Getting laid. 

Soon enough he had sat at their table alone, half way drunk on cheap high grade and trying desperately to fend off a little pink thing of a femme who were decidedly more than half way drunk. Elita… something. She might have been a nice femme, but he was not attracted to femmes and she was far too forward and drunk to even make him mildly interested.

He’d fled when she began kissing him, only to find that outside held drunk mechs and pleasure’bots alike. Doing things that should really only be done in the privacy of one’s berthroom. 

Needless to say he fled from there too.

Orion had really thought he knew the way to his new home, and maybe he had before he got half way drunk. Soon enough he had found himself stumbling around in the slums and had had to duck away from some dangerously looking mechs into an ally, or at least he had though it was an ally. It was more like a tunnel and his would be attackers had followed. Soon enough he was hopelessly lost in a system of tunnels that seemed to go on forever. 

It was haunted by mechs that looked big and burly, and groups of smaller mechs that seemed either haughty or somehow rough, all of them talking elatedly about the ‘performances’ to come. He followed those of the last kind, as quietly as he could, because they at least seemed to know where to go. 

And here he was now, trying not to throw up the cheap high grad and trying very hard not to call attention to himself. 

What an awesome cycle on the town. 

Now if only he could figure out where he was and how to get home from here. Without getting sick or be caught by ruffians. 

That was about when Orion’s luck ran out. A heavy hand landed on his left shoulder panel and he was jerked around, pushed against the rough wall and felt someone vented hot air against his chassis. Hot air that smelled of the same cheap high grade he was attempting not to throw up. 

“What have we here?” Resetting his optics, Orion focused on a set of marginally good looking faceplates and the leering smile that decorated them. It was not a comforting sight. 

“What a pretty little thing, what are you doing in this part of Iacon… going to the games?” Games? What games, Orion swallowed a whimper and shook his head. Maybe he would be left alone if he just acted, um… calm.

“T-trying to get-”

“What did you find?” A second stranger leaned on the first, making him loosen his grip on Orion’s shoulder plate a little. 

“Oh, isn’t he a pretty one!” A third mech leered down at him. 

“I found him, git you two!” And luck found him again! His ‘attacker’ let go to shove at the two new ones and Orion ducked under his arm, running for it. He could hear them follow behind, far more clumsy then he was and bigger too. Still, they were persistent. 

Ducking into yet another tunnel, he was surprised to find it well lighted as opposed to the dim ambiance of the half rusted tunnels. This was not half rusted, and it had doors in its walls! The first many of them were closed but then there was one which was open… 

Orion did not even think, he slid though it and pressed it close behind himself. Optics offline and vents heaving, he stood for one long moment, listening to silence, and then he doubled over and purged his tank. 

Oh Primus, awful! He was never going to go drinking again… 

Ever! 

“What in the Pit?” Orion jerked and tried to get up to look at the speaker, but failed and instead fell to his hands and knee joints, wreaked by the cramp like purge cycles. His tank was really pissed at him and he couldn’t stop being sick…

“Disgusting…” Several other such sentiments were voiced, Orion couldn’t quite count how many mechs might be speaking, but it was more than two or three. And it really was disgusting, but there was nothing much he could do about that. 

“I thought you had made sure that spectators couldn’t get in here any longer?” One of them spoke harshly to another one, voice carrying a certainty of being obeyed that Orion had rarely heard. 

“I did! I don’t know where this one came from, master Clench!” The answer had a frantic note to it and was spoken from someone close. Then someone large, really large, hauled Orion upright and shook him, which only caused a new wave of nausea cramps to occur. 

“Wait a moment…” The first voice had changed tone and a hand closed around Orion’s chin, tilting his head from side to side, causing a whimper to get past the remnants of his latest purging. 

“This is not one of the usual… a pet perhaps?” Orion’s optics onlined, indignity and anger shining dimly in them under the nausea. His gaze met that of golden optics in a black, ornate helmet with large finials and an equally as ornate battle mask covering the speaker’s mouth. The mech was large and frightening… 

“Or maybe a trespasser? Someone getting into places he shouldn’t be… Can’t have that can we? Usually that would be a quick trip to the All Spark, but such a little beauty…” Orion quivered as the hand on his chin moved down to squeeze his throat and then slid further down to press against his chest plates. The mech was talking about offlining him? And not one of the other mech’s he could hear mutter in the background said a word against it? What had he gotten himself into? The golden optics blazed with something dark and desirous, something that made cold dread run down his spinal array. 

“The games have been a little boring lately, haven’t they, Drixco?” The tone was almost a purr now.

“I suppose… um, yes, master Clench.” The other mech didn’t seem too pleased, even less so when he was ordered to ‘get the little thing cleaned up’. But the rest of the room erupted into rough cries of approval and shouted words that Orion wished he could un-hear. He was confused and weak, too weak to even try and fight. Or even demand an explanation… he did try once but the mech, Drixco?, just slapped him across the dermas. He still felt sick and the rough handling he received was not helping matters any so he lapsed into fearful silence. 

Understanding came when he was placed in a cage and hoisted up over the heads of a roiling crowd while ‘master’ Clench announced that the dark cycle’s gladiatorial match had a very special prize. 

Him.

The illegal gladiator pits were what he had stumbled into and now he was the ‘prize’ of the fights. 

Whichever gladiator won would get him as ‘companion’… a pleasure’bot. 

Orion wished he could faint, or purge some more. Maybe he would have inspired less approval from the crowd then. Though the ones he needed to disgust was the gladiators, which turned out to be the very mechs that he had barged in on. 

If they still wanted him after that little display of purging… 

And they did, they seemed in high spark, a few stood out though. The largest ones were quiet, opticking each other with feral intent. Those were the ones that knew they had a shot at him. Orion didn’t know how he knew this but there was a confidence about them that spoke volumes about their probable abilities. 

Orion tried to shut out what was going on, the voice of master Clench… the eager gladiators. Focusing on the spectators, he wondered if one of them might somehow help him. 

It was unlikely, they seemed as riled up at the ‘change’ as the gladiators. Eager for the fights to come… swallowing, he tried to concentrate on just looking.

There were pleasure’bots in the crowd, and they seemed to be doing brisk business already. They were not the kind he had seen outside the bar, and the mechs sampling them were not poor of credits to spend. There were others that stood up, down by the pit walls, those were poor, and no pleasure’bot moved among them. 

He’d never seen high end pleasure’bots before, clad in fine mesh fabrics, decorated with inlays and etchings… even rare precious stones and organic wood. Created to please. Programmed to please…

Where there would have been fascination once there was only horror now. He wasn’t Created or programmed for such a job! Though he did see the similarities between his own slim build and that of the pleasure’bots working under him. What fueled his fear even more was that when a few of them spared him a glance there was envy in their optics.

How could anyone envy him this? Being a prize, a thing to be taken, a possession.

Oh… 

Realization was uncomfortable, they might be owned by someone but they had to service any who paid them. If a pleasure’bot was lucky he or she was bought by an individual and kept as a prized pet, a possession. What he was being offered up as. 

Suddenly the crowd roared deafeningly and his gaze was unwillingly drawn to the arena, where a group of twelve of the smaller gladiators had been released. Weapons glinted, sparks falling from the energized, crude blades. Clench announced them to be the groon's newcomers, those that would have to prove themselves to be taken in to the arena as true gladiators. 

A high note sounded and suddenly the arena floor was pure carnage. It was horrible to watch for the young archivist, who was used to having such things stay the nice safe distance given by time and words on a data pad. Energon flew in glowing arches, splattering the fighters, the spectators on the lower ranks, soaking into the metallic shavings that made up the arena flooring. 

The noise was even more horrible, the cheering from the crowd, the clash of metal on metal, the cries of pain and roars of triumph. And it just would not stop!

Even when only two were left standing the crowd sill cheered, the fallen that were not yet offlined yelled and cried out, and the last two mechs fought on. Both of them were covered in energon, and both of them seemed able to win. Orion wished he could take his optics off of them…

He wished it even more so when one contender’s broadsword swung a graceful arch though the air and the other contestant’s head went flying in a spray of glittery glowing energon. 

Things sort of got blurry after that… Orion felt like being sick, and did dry heave, but there was nothing left in his tank. He alternated between watching the gladiators with fixed terrified optics or the crowds with terror for the absolute ecstasy he could see on some face plates. 

The fights were a mix of almost ritualized but brutal games of skill, where one could do anything but kill ones opponent, and slaughter scenes were would-be gladiators tore each other to pieces or were pitched against one fully trained and upgraded gladiator. It did not matter which kind it was… they were horrible, all of them!

Energon flew and splattered, glowing for a while before it dimmed and then turned dark. Parts and limbs were cut off and the air was full of the smell of the dead and dying. And the noise! Up where he was hanging he could hear it all, metal against metal, screaming both of agony and of adoration. Moaning, whimpering, sobbing… even the occasional cry of completion from the mechs that availed themselves of the charms of the pleasure’bots. 

It was the Pit. Orion was almost sure he had landed himself in the Pit for some reason, almost wished that was true in fact. This was a display of all the disgusting, degraded, unsavory behaviors Cybertronians had. Base programming, of the most violent, dirtiest and vilest kind.

And finally it ended. Or at least the last match was announced, between someone whose name he did not catch and Clench himself… 

Orion did recognize the unnamed challenger, insofar as he recognized one of the killers of the arena. The silver white armor with red accents was already liberally splattered with dried, dark energon. In contrast, Clench’s black armor shone under the lights, a deep purple sheen to the waxed and polished plates. 

The match was frighteningly even considering the fact that one of them already had minor wounds and had been in at least one, possibly more Orion couldn’t and did not want to remember, fight. Clench was not toying, though he made sure to have his efforts come off that way… he played the crowds. Orion could not make himself admire this, it might be a quality desirable in leaders, if history was right, but here was only a perversion of the greatest Primes and Lord High Protectors that had ruled Cybertron in its past. 

Shivering with fear, Orion watched the battle unfold until finally Clench had the other mech on his knee joints. They spoke in their powerful deep voices as the sliver white mech ‘surrendered’ and Clench ‘let’ him live. Rituals…

Orion gave a scared cry when his cage started moving, lowering him to the ground. Another mech he did not know hauled him out and pushed him straight into Clench’s arms. The gladiator master was filthy, covered in the shavings of the arena floor and reeking of spilled energon. He was hauled up the large, powerful chassis and forced into a kiss. Pure instinct had him bite the glossa forcing itself into his mouth. 

It did nothing but make Clench laugh and kiss him again, even more brutally. When he withdrew, Orion could taste energon, his own… leaking sluggishly from tears in the corner plating of his mouth. 

He was thrown over a shoulder and carried out of the arena, a large hand firmly feeling up his aft and panel despite his attempts at squirming and keeping his legs closed. Clench obviously had no wish to be gentle with him. Not fighting might be the wiser option if he wanted to actually survive this… on the other ha-

“Clench!” The rough bark had Clench turn halfway, giving Orion the opportunity to look at the speaker somewhat easily. It was the silver white mech. 

“You never intended for any of us to have a chance at winning him.” The voice was surprisingly calm, the red optics carrying no real anger just… calculations. There was a working mind in the brutal gladiator’s head, a mind that might be more dangerous than the powerful chassis was. 

“Of course not! None of you have the wherewithal to make him a living advertisement for the worldly goods the arena could potentially bring a mech. I can… he’ll be the most pretty little pampered pleasure’bot ever to set pede in the arena.” If a spark could freeze with dread that was what Orion’s had just done… The idea that he was going to be modified into a pleasure’bot? Or rather more likely reprogrammed… he couldn’t help a small whimper of fear.

“So you intend to warp him?” The sneer was cold but for a moment those red optics had flickered down to meet Orion’s blue ones. Had they carried regret in their depths?

“No, no! What do you take me for, Megatron. He’ll be far more valuable if he fears me, I’ll just beat him into line. He would make a poor advertisement if he was broken completely, or reprogrammed… no, he’ll just get all the trappings.” Clench laughed and squeezed Orion’s aft hard enough to hurt and even dent the plating. 

“Maybe I’ll let some of you have a taste of him when he stops amusing me.” Turning from the other Clench walked on, carrying Orion into his new life… his new nightmare. 

He was carelessly tossed, yes tossed, onto the berth. It was large enough that he simply bounced on it and slid a little on the silky smooth cool thermal blankets. He had been afraid that he might hit the edge or a wall… a small fear to focus on while the panic he really felt transcended anything he was able to handle. 

Orion tried to crawl into a corner, Clench just laughed at his efforts. It must have looked silly as he slipped on the thermal blankets too much to actually get anywhere. The berth surface dipped suddenly and the young mech looked up, optics wide and nearly white with fear. 

“Careful, pet, such an expression is sure to get you fragged.” Clench seemed to find endless amusement in toying with him. The gladiator master released his own panel quickly enough, clearly enjoying the whimper of abject fear his spike caused from his prize. Orion had no idea how he would ever manage to have that thing in him!

“You can’t! You…” But he could and would, the big mech pinned Orion down and started to grope him, feel him out and find the places that made him squeak, whimper, and cry out in pain… because that was what was wanted, it seemed, his pain. His fear, his terror, his pain and panic, that was what Clench lived for.

Orion could hardly stand any more when his panel was manually, and painfully, pried open and the large spike was pressed to the little prepared valve. 

“You’ll learn to be better prepared…” Growling, Clench pushed forward relentlessly, uncaring of the scream of raw agony from his young berth partner. Warnings of tearing, energon loss… Orion couldn’t manage to contain his pain any longer. He clawed at the bigger mech, blunt digits doing nothing but scrape the paint, screamed, and thrashed.

It took an eternity, and he certainly didn’t reach any sort of completion…

That first time was one of pain and pain only. Clench did nothing for him, only took his own pleasure from his chassis. His valve lining tore at some point, even though he was no virgin the girth of the gladiator master was simply too much for his little used equipment. 

A medic was called and he was ‘fixed up’, good as new. But that incident prompted the most degrading part of his living Pit. A stretcher, it was a pleasure toy, supposed to be one at least, to him it was a torture device that Clench only removed when he wanted to play with his possession. Orn after orn he walked, sat, lay with the thing stretching his valve open, never enough to make Clench’s claimings of him painless, but enough that the gladiator master could take him violently without tearing up his valve. 

As if the humiliation of constant unwilling arousal was not enough, Clench made good on his word. Within a groon of his lamented arrival, he had etchings all over his torso, shoulders, and arms, even on his face plates… Expensive wood inlays, precious stones, if it was expensive Clench had it done. Tastefully, yes, but still just another band of his prison. 

And… clothing. Orion pinched the thin, transparent mesh between two fingers and lifted it. Two claw tipped fingers. He huffed sadly and let go, lifting his hand to look at the tips again. The latest modification, almost a vorn after his capture, had been giving him sharp claws of electrum, and small fangs. Clench liked it when he fought and clawed at him, bit him… wore the small wounds proudly. Or rather to goad one particular mech. 

Megatron. 

His name was Megatron, and he was the only real rival that Clench had here in his arena. Orion was pretty sure that his owner would have happily done away with the gladiator if not for the fact that Megatron brought money and mechs to the arena, lots of money and mechs. The silver white mech was striking, with the red markings and the ruthless way he fought. He was frightening, yes, but also compelling… 

The pleasure’bots that served the gladiators spoke highly of him, said he was kind and gentle. Even when fresh out of battle he didn’t hurt anyone, and he had those two small mechs with him everywhere… lately he was also often followed by a silent blue mech. 

Orion watched him, he couldn’t help it. Living in the Pit made him long for at least a little solace, and imagining the powerful gladiator instead of Clench brought him satisfaction on many levels. What little satisfaction he could get. That he was used by the gladiator master to taunt Megatron did not go over his head either. He did not know why it worked, but it was because of Megatron that Clench liked to wear his ‘love marks’ out in public. 

He did not make the mistake of thinking there was any real attraction from Megatron’s side but he could dream… 

“Orion?” Starting, the small mech looked up, scared that he had done something that would mean punishment. He had to blink his optics off and online a few times before he realized who had approached him. 

“Sir?” Looking around discreetly he found that, yes, for once he was alone in a room. Clench rarely left him alone.

“Are you well?” The deep rumble was surprisingly soft. Orion shifted uneasily, the toy inside him moving, making sure his poor sensor nodes got no real rest from stimulation. 

“I-I am as well as can be expected, sir.” The gladiator squatted down, not precisely to his level but at least no longer hulking over him. 

“It won’t be much longer, little one, I will not abuse you. I won’t be able to let you go, but I will not abuse you.” The words were confusing, but Orion didn’t get a chance to say anything before Megatron rose and left. Looking after him, the young mech bit his lower derma and wondered at the implications of those words. 

Orion tried to forget the strange conversation in the orns to come. Partially, he didn’t want to hope for a bettering of his conditions, and partly he didn’t want to give any indication that something had happened to Clench. Despite the taunting words of maybe wanting to share him when he got tired of him, Clench was a jealous aft, and he did not mind punishing on a whim. 

On top of that the gladiator master was agitated; the noble sponsors of the arena had demanded a change, for something exciting and new to happen. They did so regularly, but it was apparently different this time… the nobles wanted something done for the Allspark festival. Something big, something energon dripping. A perversion of what the festival stood for. 

The solution actually came from Megatron… The established champions working together against the new gaggle of mechs wanting to become gladiators. It would be a slaughter to see. Orion wasn’t too sure he liked the idea, but he also realized that something was going on, more than Clench was aware of. 

He also noticed that Megatron’s blue companion, the gladiator Soundwave, had started to ‘hang out’ near Clench a lot… near him a lot. Something was up…

On the orn of the festival Clench was restless, and kept demanding that his pet pleasured him. Orion was only too glad to do so, because oral meant he would not be penetrated. While the toy was unpleasant in his valve, it did not hurt him. Sucking his master off ten times was a small sacrifice to make to avoid pain. 

“Good pet… gotten a lot better at this.” It was probably more than ten times now, Orion had lost count on purpose. The spike was fully pressurized despite this, the nodes discharging energy into his throat tubing in a very unpleasant way… Clench was over stimulated but seemed uncaring of that. But at least he seemed satisfied with the performance, very satisfied… 

Choking a little, Orion held still as the gladiator master held his helmet, face plates pressed to the black crotch plating while thick transfluid spilled directly down his intake tubing. 

“Time to get dressed, pet.” Orion pulled free, careful not to be too abrupt, and nodded obediently, optics lowered as he licked his master clean. Clench had high demands of his pet and Orion had learned to fear the times when he could not meet them. 

The gladiator master left while he put on the flimsy garments that had been judged good enough for the festival. A skirt that was sliced up in the sides so high it might as well have been a loin cloth, and thin silver chains with bells on them that could be attached to the small hooks that were set into his plating now. 

Orion’s hands shook and the bells tinkled musically in response. He might not be broken, but he had certainly been domesticated… pain was a very good teacher. 

He looked up a little fearfully when the door opened, relaxing again when he saw the blue bulk of Soundwave. Clench would have thrown a fit that he wasn’t ready, no matter that the chains took a long time to attach without help. Blue hands plucked the chains from him, making him start in surprise, and the gladiator began attaching them. 

“Orion – expected to watch fight from Clench’s seating. Soundwave – chosen as guard.” Ah… well, it was better than Drixco any orn!

“Thank you, sir.” What else could he say, he would have liked to simply not watch the games at all, but he would get beaten to within an inch of his life if he balked at it. And Soundwave would likely also be punished… one thing was pain to himself, he was not going to cause it to others as well. 

The blue gladiator stopped for a moment and Orion was surprised by a gentle if awkward pat to his helmet before he picked up work again. Soon enough, too soon, his jewelry was in place and Soundwave escorted him to his seat, at the foot of the chair Clench usually occupied. 

Drixco served as announcer this orn it seemed, calling out the seven champions of the arena, Megatron and Clench the last ones… both of them looking up in his general direction before taking their place in the loose circle formation. One made him cringe, the other… 

Orion flushed hot when Soundwave inexplicably turned his head to look at him though that inscrutable visor of his. He had observed it before, it was as if the blue gladiator reacted to thoughts at times.

Suddenly the crowds roared and Orion turned from his keeper to the arena, watching the gates open and admit the poor fools for slaughter. Again he wished he didn’t have to see, but if he didn’t watch and Clench happened to see… Whimpering quietly, he dimmed his optics and did his best to block out the first screams and glittering arcs made by weapons and glowing energon. 

If one blocked out that it was people down there… it was even in a way beautiful. But Orion did not possess the ability to forget that mechs did this, that they chose this willingly. 

The fight had been going for perhaps a breem when he heard Clench scream. He would recognize that voice anywhere! Bolting upright, optics blazing white with panic he looked around himself to figure out what was going on. In one sweep of optics he saw the lesser gladiators walking among the nobles on the high spectator stands, weapons flashing. To his right Soundwave effortlessly dropped the graying husk of Drixco, neck twisted so bad the head was nearly off. And in the arena, Megatron stood chest to chest with the black gladiator master… 

Out of Clench’s back poked both tips of Megatron’s twin swords, energon running in torrential rivulets down the black plating. 

Clench was… dead? Dying at least… 

Orion slumped back against the chair, unable to process anything past that last image. Clench was offline! Megatron had done the impossible, he was free. Abruptly he remembered the silver white gladiator’s words;

‘It won’t be much longer, little one, I will not abuse you. I won’t be able to let you go but I will not abuse you.’

Not free yet, but at least free of Clench and his abuse. And he had a promise that he would not be beaten or raped any more. That was more than he had ever held down here in the living Pit. 

“Clench is dead! We have half the council, if not more, as our captives! Rise up, my Decepticons, it is time for Cybertron to change!” The powerful voice seemed to shake entire underground arena, and the following approving roar should have blown the roof of the cave clean off. Orion was confused and amazed all at once, but he was not allowed to see what else happened. Soundwave scooped him up and carried him off. 

He was not taken to Clench's quarters, but he could guess who owned the new ones. The blue gladiator helped him out of his… outfit again and took him to the wash racks. It was odd to have help with bathing and waxing again, odd to not fear having someone’s hands on him. Soundwave was very gentle, even when he removed that damnable embarrassing toy from his valve. 

Orion felt so empty and naked, chassis for once free of any kind of sexual stimulation. He wasn’t allowed to not wear clothing, but the loin cloth and the small trinkets formed like Megatron’s mark were a far cry from the over done things Clench had demanded he wore. Soundwave gently turned him to a mirror when he was done with the trinkets and the image prompted a shy smile from Orion. This he could live with… he might even be able to berth the gladiator without too much fear. Megatron had _promised_ not to hurt him… 

Soundwave brought him to Megatron. The gladiator was deeply involved in some sort of meeting, several mechs there and even more shown on monitor screens. Orion made to sit at his pedes like he had with Clench, but the silver white mech scooped him up with a low growl and deposited him in his lap. He settled in obediently and waited for something to happen. 

Nothing did. Not even groping. He couldn’t follow the meeting and was quite confused about everything going on… and possibly a little bit disappointed, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. 

For over a groon that was how his life formed itself. He recharged safely enveloped by strong silver white or blue arms, depending on whether or not Megatron was ‘home’. If Megatron was not there, Soundwave was, they treated him the same way… almost. He sat in their laps, he recharged in their arms, they bathed him and helped him dress. It was not ‘not sexual’, at least not from Megatron’s side, he made careful overtures… even brought Orion to overload a few times. But he never demanded anything from him in return. Soundwave acted more like he was his long lost sparkling. 

It was incredibly odd and infuriatingly frustrating. 

Then both Megatron and Soundwave went away for a long while… Orion wasn’t sure how long in all but it was certainly more than two groons in all. He was treated well still, the blue gladiator had left his black cassette drone with him, a feline drone, and the mechs there were still around made sure he had the best of the best available to him. Energon, treats, clothing, jewelry. Gifts occasionally came, sent by Megatron for him to ‘enjoy’.

Then finally he was sent for, and for once he really did his best to look good. He’d never bothered for Clench, only done as much as was needed not to be beat for ‘neglecting’ his duty to his master. But for Megatron, and Soundwave, he would!

Orion was brought to the upper levels of Iacon… the towers he had never thought he would see from the inside. They were marked by dried energon, scorch marks and destruction, but still beautiful. As he followed the one sent for him, he began to understand what had been going on for the last half a vorn. He didn’t know what to feel about it though. 

The council chamber’s doors were opened for him, he knew them from countless news holos, and he stepped inside to see Megatron on the throne of the Primes. The artifact known as the Matrix hovered in its ancient glass casing over a pillow to the right of the silver white gladiator. Orion couldn’t have cared less… 

He might have been nervous but he still rushed forward, eager to be safe, feel safe, again. He didn’t try to climb into Megatron’s lap, instead settling between the mech’s legs on the floor, purring quietly as he leaned against the warm plating. 

A deep chuckle rang out and the large mech bent forward, scooping him up off the floor to settle him against warm chest plates. 

“I won’t have you act like a slave, little one.” That was all Megatron said to him, for something far more important was about to happen.

To say he wasn’t horrified would be a lie, it was almost worse than the arena fights… but not because of the energon. Each noble, each council member brought before Megatron was judged on what they had done to Cybertron and its population. Each one was punished by death. Some had their hand in the senseless slaughter that was the arena, others in brothels staffed by reprogrammed mechs. Some hid energon reserves or even whole mines. The lists of crimes seemed endless and Orion was glad he was allowed to sit on Megatron’s lap, there he could hide against the strong chest plates and not have to see the mechs that had apparently been behind his whole ordeal, in an indirect manner. 

Behind everyone’s sufferings, behind violence and neglect and hate. 

“It is okay, little one, it will be over soon.” Endearments and reassurances fell easily to his audio receptors, gentle hands petting him occasionally, or just resting on his plating. 

Orion would not have called it soon, but it did end. Megatron took him with him, carrying him effortlessly out of the energon soaked room and on until he reached an apartment that had apparently been deemed worthy to live in. It was sparsely but richly furnished, dark colors predominant. 

“There… peace at last. I am sorry to have neglected you so lately, Orion.” Orion started and looked up, surprised at hearing his name. Clench had never used it and he had forgetten that Megatron knew it. 

“S-m-master?” Megatron started to shake his head and Orion could not help cringing a little with fear. 

“There is no master here, Orion, little one… I am so sorry I could not take you from him earlier, I had to have everything ready.” Genuine concern and shame was odd to see on those always so impassive face plates. 

“I wanted to think of only you, but that was impossible. I hope you will forgive me.” Orion only felt his confusion grow, he hadn’t known this mech before the arena, so why was Megatron acting like he did? Or was there something he had missed…

“I… I don’t understand?” 

“Of course not, I am sorry again.” Megatron lifted one of Orion’s hands up, gently kissing the palm and huffing when he saw the golden claw tips. 

“I wanted to prevent what happened to you, I thought if I won you I could let you go… fake something for Clench so he thought you offline. But he hadn’t even planned on us to have a real chance at winning you.” Another huff and kiss. 

“You were so beautiful… and you only became more so as time went on, but you became so afraid, he hurt you so badly. Wanting to free you turned into wanting to protect you… wanting to love you. I will understand if you do not return it… but I am too selfish to let you go yet.” The tone was only slightly apologetic as the strong arms tightened a little around him. Orion was too stunned to do anything, protest or show acceptance…

Megatron was in love with him? Did he love Megatron? Orion did not know, he felt safe with the silver white gladiator but that had nothing to do with love, only with trust. Then again, he had never been in love so how would he know… 

“I don’t need an answer now, all I want is for you to stay with me and allow me to take care of you.” That did not sound bad… Orion knew he had enjoyed the time he had with Megatron, and with Soundwave, though for different reasons. He felt safe with them both.

“I… can do that? S-stay with you…” That seemed to be enough. 

It was enough for a very long time. Not that there was no progress, no evolution of what they had. There was that in plenty, Megatron saw to it that he could continue his work as an archivist and that allowed Orion to recover some of his lost confidence. The former gladiator was affectionate at even the worst times, caring and gentle… very much at odds with his other side. 

Megatron could be cruel, or at least seem cruel, though he always had a reason for what he did. If Orion had to watch one of those cold acts, Megatron always set him down and explained what was at the base of that choice. It was not always Orion agreed, but he could often understand… 

The Decepticon had been a miner, then a gladiator, and was now a ruler. He was not entirely sane, but he was good for Cybertron. And who was to say that a little insanity wouldn’t make things better? The council had not been good for Cybertron and reputedly they had been sane! 

When the time came, Orion was the one to take the first step… but Megatron was the one who bared his spark. 

Unity was all it was said to be, and better…

In the arena they had cried ‘till all are one’ when someone offlined. 

They were one now… and very much online. 

Orion smiled tiredly at the darkness in the berthroom, listening to his bond mate’s slow venting. Megatron was not entirely sane, no, but neither was he. Pain made one fall or transcend, and they had managed to do the latter, somehow. He was happy…

And he knew what love was.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta  
> AKzeal


End file.
